Left Behind
by Counter Spark
Summary: He supposed he was meant to regret everything he'd done. Fleeing the Dark Lord, saving a life. Actually falling for the Mudblood. But at the end of Bellatrix's wand, all Draco could muster was sadness at the fact that he'd only had one week with her. DHr.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Left Behind

**Summary: **He supposed he was meant to regret everything he'd done. Fleeing the Dark Lord, saving a life. Actually falling for the Mudblood. But at the end of Bellatrix's wand, all Draco could muster was sadness at the fact that he'd only had one week with her. DHr.

**Disclaimer: **AGAIN, I didn't write the Harry Potter books and I own nothing! I know it's easy getting me and JK Rowling mixed up, but stop asking me if I did! _Sheesh..._

**A/N: **Here I go again, attempting another DHr chapter fic. If you've followed me on here, you know I finish nothing longer than one chapter. But? I think I'm really gonna do it this time! I know, I know, you can't trust me, but the idea for this story hit me hard, and I really really _really _want to see this one done.

So, without further ado, the first chapter of the first multi-chapter fic that I am going to finish. Plz enjoy and review.

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><p>"He's still in there."<p>

She said it again, and for the second time she was met with silence. Hermione felt the panic rising inside her stomach, the realization dawning on her more and more with each passing second. There was a nervous pang in her chest- so intense it hurt- and she clawed at Ron's arm with trembling fingers.

"Ron, he's still in there."

He spoke without looking at her, eyes locked on the black fortress. "So what, Hermione."

So what? _So what? _She could picture it in her mind. All of them circling around him, wands brandished. Not wanting to kill because that would be too easy. "What do you mean _so what_? Ron?"

Harry finally turned to face her, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses. "Leave it, Hermione. He's gone."

Just like that. For years she'd watched Ron and Harry fight for other peoples' lives, but this time they wouldn't lift a finger. She wanted so desperately not to care, and a week ago she _wouldn't _have cared. But things were different now. She swallowed hard, searching for her voice. When it finally came, it hardly sounded like hers. "You're joking, right? Harry, please..."

"What do you want me to do?" There was that note of annoyance. She knew it would come eventually.

"Something! Look, we'll drop the spell around the front door, run in, and get him! We can't just _leave _him! Can you imagine what they'll do?"

"Chances are they're probably already doing it," Ron muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "There's no point running in and getting ourselves killed."

"I don't think you understand," she said. She turned her attention to the black tower, a soft, green light radiating from the walls. They were all trapped in there, stuck until the Aurors showed up. A building full of Death Eaters. They could curse at the doors from the inside as much as they wanted, but they weren't going anywhere. Not with the forcefield Harry had set.

"I don't think _you _understand," Harry interjected, pulling off his glasses. His palms came up, rubbing hard at his eyes. "Nobody is going back in there, Hermione. Just accept it, okay? He's gone. That's what happens now. People die."

A pain was coming up from the bottom of her stomach, shrinking and expanding in her chest like a clinching fist. It was hard to breathe, and she faintly wondered if she might be sick. "No! How do we know he's dead? Would you guys just do that to me? Leave me in there?"

Something in Harry snapped. _"Draco Malfoy is not you, Hermione!"_ He lurched forward, madness in his eyes. "The three of us stick together no matter what- of course we'd risk our lives to save you! But he's _not_ you!" Then his mouth went thin, his eyes closed, and he balanced the pair of glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "He's gone."

She fell to her knees, eyes glued to the glowing tower.

_He's gone._

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><p>They came up with the plan on the spot, and it showed. Malfoy had deflected another beam of red light, running with everything he had down the winding staircase. She was just ahead of him, a huge mass of bobbing hair. Lines of different colored light both exiting her wand and flying past her face.<p>

"We're almost there!" She yelled back at him, turning her head just slightly. Their eyes met in the midst of everything, and Draco felt calm. As much as he hated admitting it, Granger was better than him at everything- and that was actually okay in this instance. She might've been an insufferable snob, but she knew how to fight. He followed behind her closely, almost certain he'd be safe. Because if they got a hold of him...after what he'd done...

He didn't want to imagine it.

They reached the bottom of the staircase, and it was almost a straight shot. The bottom floor was huge, but the marble pathway drew a line from the bottom step to the door. Maybe seventy feet away. Hermione didn't hesitate, bolting down it without even a pause. Ahead of them, Potter and Weasley were just reaching the door. _Idiots, _he thought, real fear bubbling in his stomach. The plan was to lure the Death Eaters into the building, escape, and trap them in there the moment the four of them swung the door shut behind them. Didn't Potter know he was the one they really wanted? If Potter left the tower first, they'd follow, and the whole plan would be blown to shit. As long as Potter stayed in the building, the Death Eaters wouldn't leave- yet he was almost to the door, while he and Granger still had a long stretch of space and a handful of Death Eaters between them and the exit.

It actually entered his mind then that he might not make it...that both he and Granger might not make it to the door by the time Potter closed it and set the forcefield. But that was ridiculous...they'd never seal Granger in a building full of people that wanted her dead. Draco knew that if it meant saving Granger, Potter and Weasley would abandon the plan easily. As would he. He could admit that now without feeling ashamed.

The question was, would they do the same for him?

Draco and Hermione were halfway down the hall, their run uninterrupted, when suddenly they appeared. Two hooded figures running towards Granger on both sides. She'd spotted the one on her left and brandished her wand, but by all appearances she hadn't noticed the one on the right. Malfoy thought _Stupefy!, _and a stream of red light hit the hooded figure in the face. It crumpled over, along with the Death Eater Granger had swiftly dealt with, and their path was clear once more.

The door swung open ahead of them. Sunlight entered the tower, and the silhouettes of Potter and Weasley blocked the light for a moment before growing faint in the distance. They were out. "Come on!" She screamed again, head whipping back to check on him. He grinned at her, just feet behind, and he thought: _We're going to make it._

Her head turned back towards the door, her pleased face replaced again by a mass of hair, and Draco felt something hit him in the side. Slowly, as though it were possible to prevent it, he felt his body going sideways. His feet leaving the ground millimeter by millimeter. Then all of a sudden he was flying through the air, completely out of control.

He slammed into a column, headfirst, and stars rocketed past his eyes. There was nothing for a few seconds, just white pain, until reality started coming back to him. He was slumped at the bottom of the stone column, blood pooling in his ear, and something was blocking the light again. Granger's silhouette.

"No," he said to himself, panic slamming into his guts like a steel bat. "No..."

Draco leapt to his feet, wobbled a bit, and took a step towards the door. But it was closing. Granger was running into the open pasture, sunlight erasing the shape of her, and the door was closing.

"No!"

A bolt of white light zoomed past his nose. The Death Eater who'd sent him flying- Yaxley he could see now- was running towards him, wand held above his head. Screaming like a banshee. Draco hit him with a leg-locker curse, and he came down like a ton of bricks.

"No," he whispered again. With eyes practically popping out of his skull, he turned his head back towards the staircase. They were coming for him now, a chorus of echoing voices and stomping feet. A stampede. And here he was, alone, trapped in this tower with them because Potter had closed the door and set the forcefield.

No one was getting out now, and that included him.

He saw the first foot hit the bottom step, and at the sight of it he ran towards the left side of the house, not sure where he was going but knowing that he had to hide. Because if they found him-

Another wave of panic slammed into and almost sent him to the ground. _Don't think about that, _his survival instinct commanded. A door waited for him at the end of the open floor, and he sped through it, mind racing, not knowing if they'd spotted him or not.

It was a bedroom, a bedroom he remembered from his childhood. A large window was to his right, and through it he could see the wall of green light glowing between the tower and the field. Potter and Weasley were standing, arms folded over their chest. Stoically admiring their work. Granger's back still faced him, arched over. Hands on her knees like she was gasping for breath.

He wondered for a moment if she'd realized he wasn't behind her yet.

Draco wanted to stay and watch her- to see how he'd react when she noticed he wasn't there- but the all the voices were coming from the bottom floor now, and he needed to hide. He turned around, flung open the slated closet doors, and sunk to the floor inside them. With wildly shaking hands, he reached out and pulled the doors towards himself. Hidden, for now.

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><p>Hermione found the strength to use her legs again, and she stood up, swaying dangerously from side to side. Ron's hand shot out to grab hold of her wrist, to steady her, but she flinched away from his touch.<p>

"Why did you close the door," she breathed, panic swiftly replaced by anger. "That wasn't the plan. He was right behind me."

"No he wasn't." Harry sat down on the grass. "I waited for ten seconds, Hermione. I even glanced inside before I shut the door. He wasn't coming."

"Are you sure? Did you see him at all?"

"No."

She buried her hands in her hair. For one second her mind tried to wrap itself around the possibility of doing nothing. Of following the plan no matter what. They would wait for the rest of the Order to arrive, drop the forcefield spell, and charge. With all the Death Eaters crammed in that small space, the Order would have the advantage. That _and_ the numbers. But the odds of Malfoy still being alive by then...they dropped more and more with each second she considered it. With that knowledge, her brain hit a brick wall, and in that instant she made up her mind. "I can't leave him in there, Harry. I just can't."

_"What?"_

"He saved my life!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **[Disclaimer claiming I don't own Harry Potter while making a joke of some sort]

**A/N: **New chapter! I really don't know what else to say, other than...read it. Enjoy it.

**AND REVIEW IT.**

I mean...and review it..?

:]

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><p>It'd only been a week ago. Ever since the war started and posters with her own face on it were circling around the country, Hermione had needed a way to escape everything. And she found that escape in Polyjuice Potion. The way that everything involving herself and Draco Malfoy collided had been caused by a huge mistake on her part. A huge mistake that almost cost her her life.<p>

Hermione had seen the woman walking towards her and decided right then and there that that's who she wanted to be for the night. Blonde, sleek, fit. The woman had on a fire engine red blazer and smart skirt ending at her knees. If Hermione hadn't have been doing this for months, she would've felt some sense of thrill or guilt following the woman. But she didn't. As soon as the two crossed paths, Hermione turned on her heel, waited for a bit, and followed behind.

The woman, conveniently, took a turn into an alleyway between two tall brick buildings. Hermione had followed her almost halfway down the narrow space before the woman noticed the sound of footsteps behind her. When her blonde head turned around, red mouth slightly open, Hermione said, "Stupefy"- and before the woman could fall face first onto the pavement, she shouted "Windguardium Leviosa!". She laid her to rest on a pile of garbage bags.

Hermione did everything quite speedily after months of practice. She plucked a sliver of downy blonde hair, drew the bottle of Polyjuice Potion from her jacket pocket, and dropped the hair into the concoction. It bubbled over, and Hermione downed it like a shot of whisky.

"Okay," she breathed, features turning paler and narrower. She waved her wand back and forth, performing a memory charm on the woman. Then she walked to the end of the alleyway and placed another charm over it- one very similar to the charm protecting Hogwarts. If anyone felt like walking down it, they'd suddenly remember they needed to be somewhere else. Therefore, the beautiful stranger who's body she'd just stolen for the night wouldn't be taken advantage of by some creep in this seedy neighborhood.

Everything had been covered, and for the first time in a few weeks, Hermione felt free.

To make a long story short, she'd gotten drunk. Very drunk. She'd never been to a Muggle bar before, but other than the drinks, not much was very different. There were still the cat calls, slightly more than usual since she'd inhabited this new body. There was still the noisy air that she usually hated about bars, but tonight she didn't mind it. For a few hours she was a different person, and this different person didn't feel the same way about things that Hermione Granger did. This woman enjoyed being hit on by strange men. She enjoyed the free drinks a seductive wink earned her. This woman actually enjoyed being drunk.

After awhile she lost track of time. She wasn't sure when she started referring to herself as Hermione instead of the name she'd made up. She also didn't notice her hair was changing until the guy she was engaged with started gaping at her.

"Yer..."

He gulped, blinking stupidly.

"Yer hair."

She was drunk, but not drunk enough to forget that that was very, _very_ bad. The feeling of dread came to her slowly, delayed by the amount of alcohol in her system, and she stumbled off the bar stool, running for the door. By the time she was outside, leaning against the side of the building, she was Hermione Granger again. Bushy-haired, dark-eyed. Shorter. Suddenly she hated the dizzy feeling in her head. She despised the amount of fake phone numbers she'd given out. And she really hated the fact that she'd been stupid enough to forget she had a time limit. Thank God she'd made it out when she did...thank God she hadn't done something _really _stupid.

That's when she noticed the man in the black suit standing a few feet away, his long shadow stretching to her shoes. There was something faintly familiar about his face, but she couldn't place it. Maybe if she was sober. Either way, drunk or not, she knew he was ugly, and that the hard look on his face unnerved her.

"What?" She didn't even mean to acknowledge him, but all the alcohol hadn't left her one ounce of self control.

He didn't respond. He just stayed there, looking at her with dead eyes.

"Well, okay," she mumbled, turning on her heel and beginning down the sidewalk. She wanted to get back to Grimmauld Place as soon as possible, but with the man staring at her she'd have to make a detour down the street and around the corner. She was about one block away from the bar when she heard his footsteps behind her, his long shadow now nipping at her heels. Hermione stopped, clutching the wand she'd shoved down her jeans, and turned to face him.

He spoke before she had the chance to. "Hermione Granger, is it?"

Her wand was in the air, but she seemed to be moving in slow motion. Her jumbled mind couldn't even think of what curse she ought to use. By the time she settled on one, he'd disarmed her, and her wand was flying towards the middle of the street.

"Coming with me then?"

She turned to run, but he was on her in seconds, huge arms wrapped around her waist and lifting her off of the ground. "Get off me!" She struggled, writhing in his grasp. "Get _off_ me!"

Then he Apparated, and she was traveling along with him, to where she did not know. Until she opened her eyes.

Malfoy Manor.

_Merlin..._

By now the fear had sobered her up, and she stared at the huge stone fortress, stunned to silence. This was happening. She weakly squirmed in the giant man's grasp again, repeating that line to herself.

_ This is really happening._

He let go of her, and she fell forward, palms slamming into the cold, dead ground. She hadn't imagined the Malfoy's would let their yard turn into such a yellow wasteland, but then again they had more important things to deal with, now didn't they? A bitter wind blew past her, blowing the hair from her face and chilling her to the bone. She erupted into a fit of trembling, half from the cold and half from the fear.

"Get up," he grunted, walking a few steps ahead and pulling open the huge, black-iron gate. The rusty hinges screamed and, paired with the whistling wind, Hermione felt like she was in a horror novel. She stayed immobile, hands and knees on the ground. "Get up," he said again, voice booming.

She ran through her options quickly and came to the conclusion that there were only two. She could do as the man said- follow him into the manor, and either be tortured to madness or murdered in cold blood (or both). _Or _she could turn around, race through the hillside, and hope civilization wasn't too far away. That didn't seem likely though. There was a dreamy quality to the surroundings, like she was in the middle of nowhere, and trees seemed to stretch on and on past the lawn before her. The odds that she could escape this man were slim- even slimmer if he had the time to call for help- but they were at least odds. If she followed him, the results were certain. So she took a deep breath of biting autumn air, paused for one fraction of a second, and began running in the opposite direction of the manor.

"Hey!"

She'd only made it about twenty feet before she fell forward, an invisible rope wrapping around her ankles and crushing them against one another. Hermione cried out in pain and fought against it, despite knowing it wouldn't do her any good. She began to cry, tears worming down her cold cheeks, as the man's hand scooped underneath her stomach and lifted her into the air.

_ This is it, _she thought, tears falling off the curve of her chin and landing in the dead grass. She thought of Ron and Harry, waiting by the fire at Grimmauld Place. She thought of her parents on vacation, completely oblivious to her existence. They'd never remember her now. They'd never known they'd made a child together once twenty years ago and that she'd died a violent and brutal death.

In this position, tucked into the man's side like a briefcase, she could only see his feet. She heard the sound of a door knocker coming down three times. Then a door opening. Light splayed across his black loafers.

"Oooh! What have you brought us today, love?"

Hermione knew that voice. Her insides turned to ice, and she closed her eyes.

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><p>Draco heard them, maybe only thirty feet away from where he was now, launching curse after curse at the closed door Granger had just disappeared behind. They knew it was no good- Draco <em>knew that they knew <em>that there was no getting through that forcefield- but they tried anyway, throwing everything they had at the stone wall. His aunt's voice floated down and reached him in his spot in the closet. High pitched and frantic.

"Look!"

He remembered the giant window facing the open field beside the door, and he figured the group of them had spotted Potter, Weasley, and Granger. This didn't seem particularly important to him until he realized what that meant, apparently at the exact same time Bellatrix did.

"Where's our little Draco?"

He wormed deeper into the corner of the small closet, long legs drawn into his chest.

"What...ya don't think he made it?" Some snarling voice asked. Draco guessed Fenrir, and scooted back even further.

"What?"

There was no question who that voice belonged to. Weak, trembling. Completely unsure of itself. That was his father, alright.

"Did I stutter, Lucius? Your filthy traitor son isn't standing with Potter and his wee friends! You don't think..." Draco could hear the obvious note of glee in her voice. "You don' think he's still here, do you? Oh _my_."

Draco pressed his hands into his face, certain now that he only had a few minutes of life left.

"_Ooooh Dracoooooo_?" She cackled out a few notes of laughter. "Come out and play with your Auntie Bellaaaa!"

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><p><strong>Another Author's Note: <strong>So I feel like for every story I put out, I add some pathetic author's note begging for reviews. Sooo, here it is! But really though, if you like my story, let me know! I update based on the amount of people interested in it, because really, if no one's reading...what's the point of posting it? So PLZZZ I say again, with 3 z's so you know I'm super srs, review if you want more chapters. Because I actually wrote most of the chapters in advance. Actually almost done with the fic. So yeah.

Review!


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